


miraculous self-insert drabbles

by CurlyCue



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Gen, Hence the title, Strong Language, and i don't even blame him cuz like mood, as of chapter 4 anyway, but im not going to name them, mainly from reader but also marinette yknow, nino is a good friend, the reader is honestly just my self-insert character, who is so so so done with everyone probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-24 20:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14363352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CurlyCue/pseuds/CurlyCue
Summary: just some self-insert ideas I found myself typing out from midnight to 5 AM the other day





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> mostly wrote these to get them out of my head and to get myself writing again, but if you're reading, enjoy
> 
> bear in mind this will be written with "you" as the narrator and in "your" perspective

It had been advised against-- becoming a foreign exchange student in France at the moment, considering all the attacks going on-- but you'd been signed up and ready to go for months, and you'd had to save up for many more even before that, and you were determined to go.

Everyone tried to talk you out of it, but you were dead set on your goal; you were planning to major in languages and cultural studies, so it made sense to get some experience before college. You'd worked so hard, and you had been accepted into a prestigious school with other kids your age, so how could you just turn back at the very first sign of resistance? 

You couldn't, that's how. 

And that's why you found yourself in the middle of a foreign school full of unfamiliar people in a country not your own, struggling to introduce yourself properly to your fellow students. A small, familiar tug of war waged inside you between your anxious tendency to over-analyze, stutter and stumble, and your usual mask of approachable & unshakable, laid-back chillitude. 

The instructor-- Mme. Bustier, apparently-- had introduced you briefly as a new student, and you had been blindsided, knowing it should've been expected but not expecting it quite so suddenly, so soon. Frozen, you nervously threw a glance to the corner of your vision and chuckled breathlessly, a shy, vaguely sheepish smile coming onto your face as you offered up a small wave and a quiet _"Bonjour...?"_

Overall, the reception wasn't too bad, as most of your new classmates simply nodded. A couple even smiled slightly, and a handful waved back with quietly stifled laughs, but one girl-- some blonde; the teacher hadn't done roll call yet, so sue you for not knowing her name-- merely scoffed. 

"Great, another stumbling mess. Like we needed another one of those around..."

_...?????? What did I ever do to you? You don't even know me??_

You weren't entirely certain how to convey your feelings on that, but your expression must have showed something universal, because a few of the other kids were laughing, and the blonde looked rather disgruntled at that fact, hissing under her breath something to the effect of what you presumed to be "shut up…!"

God, the class hadn't even started yet and you were already feeling overwhelmed. Everything was so dizzyingly similar yet so undeniably different and it was disorienting. 

But you had to keep at this. You'd worked so hard to get here! You couldn't just give up now.

So, as Mme. Bustier hushed the classroom and began roll call, you tried to get comfortable and feverishly attempted to match names to faces in your long term memory.


	2. Friendship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which the author worries because it's admittedly been a while since they last watched the show and their ability to accurately write the characters since then may have gone down

Your first week had been chaotic, certainly, and stressful nearly to the point of breakdown, but you managed. (After all, when you're always on the verge of breakdown, is it even really a system breakdown anymore, or just part of the system?) 

The work, you could do, of course-- the hardest part was just hearing and recognizing what the professor was saying in time to write it down-- all in French-- and, of course, answering when called upon. And group discussions. And writing-- okay, so the whole thing was pretty difficult. 

But the thing that really took the cake was trying to find real friends in the midst of everything; when you're shy and not fluent with the language, it's pretty hard to reach out, after all. You managed at least a couple, though: this nice girl, Marinette-- apparently the class president?-- had tentatively approached and kindly informed you that if you needed anything, you could ask her, and then her friends, Alya, Nino, and Adrien had been quick to promise the same, and then, finally, a friend you'd made of your own accord. 

His name was Nathaniel, and you... mostly reached out because he was sat next to you in class, admittedly. _But_ he was also a fantastic artist, which you had been quick to enthusiastically (if clumsily) compliment him on. He had been immediately flustered, and you, worried he would be scared off, had hastened to reassure him by levelling out the board, showing him your own (less intricate) classroom doodles. This didn't really calm him down much, but it caught his attention enough that you had a small chat over preferred art forms and stylistic choices, getting into it enough that you were actually told off by Mme. Mendeleiev-- at which point your heartbeat nearly tripled as you apologized profusely and sank in your seat, swearing under your breath to yourself in English and wishing you could sink into the Earth itself as students around you giggled. 

Looking over, you had found Nathaniel in nearly the same position, and as he hesitantly chanced a glance over in your direction through his hair and fingers, your gaze met his and you silently bonded through your suffering. 

... That was a few weeks ago, and since then, you'd found your own little group to stick with. Obviously, you'd stuck with Nathan and avoided the hell out of Chloé, but you'd also found that Kim, Alix, Rose, and Juleka were fun to hang around with, as well as Nino from time to time. You felt sort of bad, but while Marinette and Adrien had seemed sweet, they also seemed incredibly busy all the time, and you would feel bad adding to that.

Of course, being classmates and also friends with Nino meant you hung out or spoke on occasion, and you were friendly, but Marinette's initial nerves set yours off and it got awkward when your mind went blank of both French and English. As for Adrien... he was literally a model, what could you say? Cute and sweet, but also rich and busy and way out of your league. (Not to mention, Mlle. Class President clearly had eyes on him, so... yikes.) Alya... just seemed a bit much. She was... intimidating...? And always running into danger for that blog of hers! It had definitely been a surprise to learn that the most well-known and accurate source of information on the French superhero and villain activity was run by one of your new classmates, but after meeting the girl personally... it wasn't such a shock anymore. You left the Ladyblogger pretty ecstatic with the news that her blog was big over in America too, though. You'd told her after your last period and she'd gasped, ("Really?! Ooh, you better believe I want more info on that later.") doing an excited little dance and letting out a squeal. ("I can't believe my blog is getting this much attention!") You just laughed amicably and nodded as Nathaniel hung back awkwardly, casting a subtly impatient glance your way.

Not really knowing how to end the conversation, you'd just smiled and patted her on the arm before turning to leave, bidding the gushing Alya and her amused buddies goodbye and letting them know you'd see them tomorrow. A moment later, as you were walking down the hall with Nathan, he tried not to laugh when the look of sudden realization hit you, stopping you in your tracks: tomorrow was Saturday.

The groan you let out was quickly followed by both your own mortified laughter and Nathan's genuine laughs, filling the whole hall with the sound and making its way back to the classroom, drawing giggles from the others, unbeknownst to the two of you.


	3. Identities

More time passed, and obviously, in the time you'd been in France already, there had been akumas, and of course, the two famed heroes had stepped in every time. It was bound to happen, and you weren't surprised that it had happened multiple times already; what _had_ shocked you was how incredibly, unbelievably oblivious your classmates were. 

It seemed to you that there was an undeniable common denominator in that most akumas had been from or in some way connected to your school-- your _classroom,_ even. In fact, you had shyly approached Alya about it, as she was the undisputed expert on the subject, and she had agreed flat-out. Can't deny the numbers, after all. So then, deciding to get a little crazy, you asked her-- entertaining a brief thought, a mindless theory-- what if the heroes are also from our school? Our class? What if we know them? What if we know _le Papillon?_

A spark had lit in her eyes and quickly turned into a flame, and you had debated over it for the rest of the class, into passing time and through lunch, up until another akuma attack was announced and like clockwork, she was up like a shot, already off to get film for her blog, and her friends Marinette and Adrien-- who had been looking kind of nervous and acting weird throughout the whole conversation-- suddenly stood, speaking over each other with excuses to leave, then interrupting each other's apologies as they scrambled to get away. You were left behind, nearly alone at the table and lost in thought, frozen halfway through raising your sandwich to your mouth as Nino let out a sigh, nudging your arm to raise it the rest of the way without even looking.

"There they go again," he grumbled. 

"Uh. Nino?"

"Yeah, man?"

"Do they do that a lot?"

"Oh, yeah. They're always running off and disappearing for some reason or another."

_... There was no way, right? They couldn't be..._

Not even ten minutes later, Alya was live on her blog, and Ladybug and Chat Noir were just arriving on the scene. 

_Well... they did get there at about the same time._

But just as you were telling yourself you were being silly, Alya got a great, clear angle of the two heroes' faces, and you were hearing Ladybug yelling at Chat, and shock coursed through you like ice in your veins because that _could not more clearly be Marinette._ Ladybug was a total Marinette doppelganger, and the voice was eerily similar, and _mon dieu, that's Adrien, isn't it. How does he get away with this? Isn't he on film for most of his life? How does he get away in time to stop an akuma, much less go unrecognized when his likeness is plastered all over the country?_

In your shock, you gently patted at Nino's arm, then gripped it, ignoring his question to your well-being as you didn't completely hear it. You felt lightheaded. _Were your friends really risking their lives every day to save Paris? What would happen if they failed? If they died? If they were injured on the job? If they were injured_ off _the job and it prevented them from_ doing _the job? What's keeping them from being akumatized and turning on each other and all of Paris? Are they okay? What are you doing to help them? If you panic over this, can le Papillon hear you? **Are you endangering the saviors of Paris?**_

Suddenly, it was no longer oppressively, echoingly quiet like you were underwater as all your senses poured back in at once and you released Nino with a desperate gasp to refill your pleading lungs.

 _"Dude,_ are you good? What the hell was that? Do you need to go home?" 

What could you even tell him? Did he know? No, there was no way he knew, with the way he reacted to their excuses. And it's not really your place to tell him, is it? Besides that, you technically don't know if you're right, and who would even believe that anyway? Like, _oh, sorry Nino, I just had an anxiety attack because I suddenly realized our friends are superheroes and are putting themselves in danger every goddamn day, but no big deal, it's fine, I'm okay now!_

You decided to settle for a half-truth, letting out a groan. "Nino, I really... don't feel good. I'm-- how do I say-- _oh,"_ you cut yourself off, pressing a hand to your mouth and standing bolt upright, heading toward the trash can.

"Oh, _man,_ no, that's so uncool. Gross," Nino moaned as he quickly gathered up as many paper towels as he could carry.


	4. Akumatization?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which you give hawkmoth a piece of your mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i use "Mix" in this chapter as a gender neutral alternative to Mademoiselle or Monsieur, so when that pops up, that's what it's for

It had been... a very long week. 

First, various students-- including Nathaniel-- had been out of class sporadically over the entirety of the past two weeks due to a virus going around, and you had been asked to take notes for them this week. Which would have been fine, if you hadn't already had to re-do them multiple times for reasons of your own doing. (The first time, you'd forgotten you were taking notes for multiple people and your notes had been covered in doodles and your handwriting was illegible. The second time, you were in the middle of transcribing them when the kid sitting next to you had knocked their drink over, ruining them. They'd apologized profusely, and you'd forgiven them, but it was still devastating. The third time, you had taken your bag off-campus with you over lunch and forgotten it wasn't completely closed, and a whole two pages just fell out somewhere along the way and you had no idea where they went. After that, you'd felt like crying, but pushed it aside with a miserable laugh at your terrible luck.)

Then, the next day, in order to avoid a do-over of the lunch fiasco, you double-, triple-, and quadruple-checked your bag before going anywhere and made sure to pack a lunch the night before, but in the morning you woke up late and, in your rush to leave, had apparently grabbed the wrong bag from the kitchen, which you discovered at lunchtime when, instead of the lunch you'd been looking forward to, you found a bag containing what you presumed to be cooking supplies that your host-mom had bought for something specific and not very lunchy. So you ended up going out for lunch anyway, and then, conveniently enough, you patted yourself down and realized you'd forgotten your wallet at home too, which meant that-- as a plus-- you were also locked out until your host family got back from work.

While you were locked out, an akuma attack began in your area, because of course it would. You weren't even useful enough to get yourself out of danger, so your friends-- who, at this point, you couldn't even deny to yourself were Ladybug and Chat Noir-- could do their jobs. Adrien had to get you out of the way. Granted, that was an alright experience, because you were being saved by Chat Noir (swoon swoon, you guess) but mostly because you knew it was your dorky friends caring for you. After that, though, you were huddled in a shop with too many other citizens, the only thing able to assuage your worry for your friends being the blog. 

Luckily, they purified the akuma with no big problems, but your host family was late because of the fight, and since you weren't locked out due to the akuma, it wasn't fixed by Marinette's special power. 

As you sat on the steps of your current residence, you idly skimmed over the assigned chapter for Science, not actually reading it but needing a distraction lest you give in to the overwhelming emotions and exhaustion. It didn't really seem to be working though: you'd been trying to comprehend the same line for the past 5 minutes, and it wasn't going well-- and you knew it wasn't because it was written in French. You could feel the emotions stewing, bubbling up only to leave a lump in your throat as you struggled not to blink in order to prolong the inevitable as long as possible. 

_Please god not here, not in public, not Paris for hell's sake. Why?_

Your tear ducts must have had enough of your shit, because suddenly you felt three tears stream down your cheeks in quick succession. A spike of anger ripped through you, ashamed that you were reduced to this over such silly little things, and you wiped at your face furiously. _Of fucking course. This is just my luck._

In fact, as your luck would have it, while you were preoccupied, a shimmering purple butterfly flew down and corrupted your book.

 _"Well, hello there,"_ greeted a loud voice you didn't recognize. It was sudden, and startling, and seemed out of place in a way you couldn't quite put your finger on. You jumped, looking around in irritation, only to find no one there. _"Oh, no, I'm not with you. But I am with you, if you know what I mean. Life can be tough... but I can help you turn that luck of yours around, if you'll help me in exchange..."_

This only served to make you more irritable. **"Go away."**

_"My, how unhospit--"_

**"I said _go away!_ Leave me alone!"**

_"As you wish. I will leave you alone, if you--"_

"No! You know what? _**No.**_ That’s enough. Fuck off, you disgusting-- terrorist piece of garbage-- I ought to--" 

Your (no longer quite so) internal monologue was interrupted by a certain black cat jumping down from your roof to land beside you. (Again, you jumped, startled.) Unbeknownst to you, the wave of shock caused the akuma mask to flicker away from your face.

"Such language! You alright-- er, Mix?" It was comical, the way Adrien stumbled over not using your name while transformed, but it was a bit difficult for you to find anything particularly amusing at the moment. 

"Oh. Hey," you answered, knowing it wasn't the coolest response you could've given but honestly not really caring at the moment. "What're you doing here?"

"Post-attack patrol." He said simply before sitting down beside you. "But you didn't answer my question."

You both sat in silence for a moment. It was kind of odd that you knew who he was and that he didn't know that you knew. It felt... wrong, somehow. You felt kind of guilty, actually.

You and Chat both flinched when the akuma mask flickered back up, although for different reasons. Your mind was assaulted by le Papillon shouting for you to give him Chat's Miraculous, but it was nothing compared to some of the migraines you'd had to live through. You held a hand to your head and sighed, grumbling under your breath. “Go away, old man. I’ve dealt with worse things than this, and I’ll get through it without you. Do yourself a favor and _get lost before I track you down myself and make you regret it.”_

When you looked up a moment later, it was to lock eyes with a very confounded-looking Chat Noir, and you quickly averted your gaze, realizing how crazy you must seem and feeling even more ashamed for nearly falling prey to le Papillon. The akuma mask flared up once, burning bright in response to your shame, and then faded as the little butterfly-- white, now-- escaped from your book, flying up and away, presumably making its way back to the villain in question. 

You slowly shut the book in your lap and closed your eyes, burying your face in your hands. “I’m so sorry,” you murmured. It was taking so much energy to not start crying right there, right then, and you were _exhausted._ “It’s been a long week, but that doesn’t excuse--”

“Sorry,” Chat cut you off, and you looked over at him, confused. “but how did you _do_ that?”

You took a moment to think about it, but it didn’t help-- you had to admit, you were puzzled. “Do what?” 

“What do you mean, _what?_ You just purified your own akuma. That's never happened before.” He sounded almost awed, and he was looking at you with new eyes-- like he was impressed or something. 

“Uh… well,” you began, voice quiet as you slowly lowered your hands from your face. “Le Papillon is a manipulative terrorist, but I think I still have to agree to help him in order to be akumatized? He was trying to convince me to help, which I assume means he needs consent to akumatize someone. I might be having a rough time, but I’m not about to betray my…” _Don’t say friends. Don’t say friends--_ “favorite heroes, if I’ve got anything to say about it.”

“Wow.” 

You were almost taken aback by how earnest of a reaction it was. It seemed more characteristic of Adrien than Chat Noir, _but then,_ you wondered, _is there really a difference?_ “Yeah.”

“That takes a lot of strength, you know. It’s admirable. I would think that anyone capable of talking to le Papillon that way could handle just about anything... so what’s got you so upset?”

 _Huh. Not even a pun?_ “Thanks, but I’m just doing what’s right-- as best as I can, anyway. Let’s just say it’s been… a long, _long_ week. I wouldn’t want to trouble you with it.”

Chat simply waved a hand in dismissal. “Eh, I’m done with my _paw_ trol. I’ve got time.”

 _Ah, there it is._ You couldn’t help but crack a small grin, and you noticed that he offered up a smile in return. Could you really…? _Oh, what the hell._ You might as well, since he offered. After all, you wouldn't want to get akumatized later-- for real this time-- just because you didn't take the chance to talk to someone when you were given the chance.

“Well... okay. I’m locked out, for starters, so I'm stuck out here for who knows how long, and it all began earlier this week when…”


	5. Akumatization? (alternate ending)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An alternate ending to the previous chapter. (Think of it as bonus content, but not canon to my self-insert storyline, I guess?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't end up using this for several reasons, one of which was because I used a lot of feminine-oriented language toward my self insert and then after I wrote it, I started identifying as nonbinary, but editing the dialogue made it feel less natural. I like the other ending better anyway, but it's hard for me to continue writing with this eating at me, so I'll release it. I guess it's kind of like an AU? Anyway, the part in italics at the beginning is where it diverges from the plot of the previous chapter.
> 
> *Side note, she refers to herself as Bee Lange at one point. That's not my name, and it's not my self-insert's either, but it was a pseudonym I was using at the time.

_You and Chat both flinched when the akuma mask flickered back up, although for different reasons. Your mind was assaulted by le Papillon shouting for you to give him Chat's Miraculous, but it was nothing compared to some of the migraines you'd had to live through._

“Mon Dieu,” you groaned quietly, dropping your face into your hands, hiding your face and muffling your next words, spoken in a quiet whine, mostly to yourself-- you were beyond a filter at this point, not even noticing you were no longer speaking French. “I wish it would all just _stop,_ I can’t fucking handle this anymore. I don’t know why I decided to come here, I don’t know why I’m so fucking weak I actually almost got akumatized and before that, I was stupid enough to think it wouldn’t happen to me, can you believe it? Bee _fucking_ Lange, people, that’s me! Smarter than hell and stubborn as steel but got outwitted by a goddamn _butterfly.”_ Your shoulders shook as you let out a bitter laugh. The tail end of it turned into more of a sob and you could feel your emotions brewing and bubbling higher and higher, and just when you thought the akumatization might actually go through, you felt a gentle hand delicately place itself on your shoulder. 

You were startled, and it showed. After a sharp inhale-- which left you coughing-- you looked over and remembered that _oh, yeah. Chat’s here._

As soon as he had your attention, he pulled you into a hug-- a strong embrace with gentle hands rubbing soothing patterns on your shoulder blades, a quiet but all too heavy sigh, barely heard, hard to tell even whose lips it fell from-- and it was probably the best hug you’d ever had. Even when he pulled away, he didn’t; he retreated slowly, hands lingering softly on your shoulders.

 _“Breathe.”_ It was his only remark, and one that seemed almost out of character for the pun-slinging hero. Almost.

But then, as you controlled your breath, you couldn’t help but think: _it’s the type of person who does this that becomes a hero of the people, isn’t it? So, why, then, would this be out of character? If anything, wouldn’t this be more deeply in-character than his jokes…?_

The thought had you opening your eyes to study his face, only to find his already studying yours. You couldn’t help that your lips twitched upwards ever so slightly in an awkward smile, averting your gaze almost immediately.

“Ah! There we go! That’s much better; a _purr_ ty smile for a _mew_ tiful girl.” 

_And_ just like that, the moment was over. You rolled your eyes, letting out a mock disdainful snort as your smile grew. “Mhm... thanks,” you hummed, ignoring his flirtatious comment in favor of anything but that. “For, uh. Everything else, mostly. Not just the compliment,” you clarified, feeling awkward. 

You had to restrain a giggle as Chat’s ears perked up and he continued with a bow and a mischievous grin. “Anytime! You know it’s my job to come swooping in whenever one of Paris’s many, equally lovely princesses is in danger.” 

Suddenly realizing something, you let out a laugh, lightly covering your mouth as your eyes twinkled in mirth. “Don’t you mean whene _fur?”_

The look he gave you was so bright and happy-- had no one else even thought to return his puns? Ever? Although, to be fair, most of the people he interacts with as Chat Noir are either reporters or… not exactly in the mood or state of mind to be making jokes. 

Regardless... the whole experience had been eye-opening, and one to remember, for sure.


	6. Hurry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author springs forward in time to give you a snapshot of yourself as a superhero, helping the famous French duo save the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place a little while later on in the story, after I've received my [miraculous](https://miraculousladybug.fandom.com/wiki/Mullo) and become Souris Grise (Grey Mouse)

_Hurry, hurry! I have to hurry--_

The pounding rhythm of your sprinting footfalls hitting the streets is loud enough to you that you can hear them over the screams of other Parisians, and even over the rapid drumbeat of your heart in your ears. 

_Marinette’s fighting all alone, I need to **hurry--**_

Skidding to a stop, you spy an area that you instinctively know-- as the holder of the Miraculous of stealth-- will allow you to safely transform without being seen, and you make a sharp turn before diving for it. Any onlookers will probably assume you’re going for a hiding place to get away from the danger of the akuma, but in reality, you’ll be running right towards it in a moment. The moment you’re out of sight, Mullo flies out of your bag, and you know they’ve assessed the situation the same way you have, so there’s no need to explain. Without hesitation, you let out an urgent whisper: “Mullo, ears up!” 

The moment the phrase is uttered, they dive into their magic pendant, draped around your neck. Your transformation is brief; although there are lots of bells and whistles to the costume, it is made of magic, and the situation is dire. Luckily enough, Mullo understands the need for brevity and you’re on your way not a moment later, your footsteps quicker and stronger than before, but also lighter-- barely noticeable. This is the way you prefer it; the stealth of the suit and the powers lent to you by your kwami partner give you the option, the choice, as to whether or not you’ll take the spotlight-- control that, previously, you were never given. For now, though, you’re not thinking about the spotlight: your only hope is that you’re not too late to help out your spotted friend. 

Although the akuma is close by-- obvious from both the noise level and the way you’d _spotted_ Marinette, transformed, leaping from a nearby rooftop just moments ago-- it’s not immediately clear which direction they’re in. So, you decide, maybe you ought to get to a better vantage point. Smoothly, you unravel your jumprope from your waist, grab each end, and toss the looped end toward the closest chimney, using it to swing yourself up onto the roof. From here, your keen observational senses take over, as well as habits formed from days and nights spent on patrol; head on a swivel, you quickly figure out where the akuma is and immediately begin the race to make it there. 

When you do drop in, skidding to a quiet stop to get a quick assessment of the situation, you see that Ladybug is in a bit of a tight spot: she’s been cornered by yet another truly reality-bending akuma victim-- a villain who can make an argument for what they want to be true at the drop of a hat, declaring themselves the undisputable speaker of truth as reality bends to their will. It would normally seem like an odd power, but before this, you and some other kids from your class had been attending a debate club tournament, and someone from another team had been humiliated and unfairly removed from their team, so you have no doubts about who it is or why they’re doing it. You even have an idea of where the akuma might be: before they stormed out, their team leader had ripped the team’s badge off their vest and thrown it to the ground. All because their team chose to believe a rumor over the word of their friend and the solid evidence, and now, that choice is impacting your friends.

Adrien had been the first to go down at the hands of this akuma. He’d been at the event and, true to his protective Chat Noir nature, he’d thrown himself in front of Alix to save her from the initial fallout. Of course, that’s sort of problematic, you’re aware, since Adrien is Chat and is now indisposed and unable to protect himself, much less the rest of Paris… which is why you’re now so frantic to get into the fray.

It’s obvious the villain has reached the point in the fight where Hawk Moth is demanding Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculouses; before your arrival, he must have argued Marinette’s yoyo to be just a toy and Ladybug to be stuck, because her weapon currently lies on the ground, meters away from her, and her feet stay planted firmly to the ground no matter how she tugs at them. It’s now that she’s trapped that the villain has decided to advance and collect her miraculous; strategically sound, but definitely not good for your team. You take the whole situation in at a moment’s notice, and no sooner do you see her dilemma than you’ve whipped the end of your rope at the badge they wear, damaging it and distracting them. 

You draw the attention of both the akuma victim and your friend, to vastly different reactions. The villain snarls, akuma mask flaring up to frame their face in a purple glow while you twirl your rope in the air and wink at the beaming bug. 

“Souris!” She exclaims. “About time you showed your whiskers. Where’s Chat?”

You grin obligingly, but give her an exaggerated shrug, eager to communicate with your teammate until you’re forced to snap into focus to deflect another of the villain’s attacks. As one of the more abstractly powered akumas, their attack is done by speaking, so you can’t deflect it directly: you’ll have to stop it at the source. With that in mind, you lob the end of your jumprope in their direction once more, this time landing it straight in their mouth, cutting off their argument and bringing a look of shock to their face. From there, you start into a sprint, literally running circles around them to tie them up with your rope, and once it’s done, you pluck off their badge with nimble fingers, snap it in half, then turn to Ladybug with a dramatic bow, which she giggles at, and a gesture to indicate “you’re up!”

As always, she ends the eventful encounter by tossing her Lucky Charm into the air-- apparently it had been a pogo stick? You’re just burning with curiosity to know what _that’s_ about-- and her wave of magical, _miraculous_ ladybugs _miraculously_ returns the city to normal-- including her yoyo, which she promptly scoops up and uses to purify the akuma before it can escape. As the little butterfly flies away, newly whitened and purified, you take a mental note of which direction it goes before turning your attention to your spotted partner, who is crouched on the ground beside your debate team competitor, who has of course returned to normal and is feeling quite a bit of remorse. She’s trying to talk it out with them, but she used her ability quite a while ago and she’s definitely going to change back soon, so you take a few steps toward her and place a gentle hand on her shoulder.

That gets her immediate attention, and she turns to you, surprised but attentive. You just offer up a soft, sheepish smile and tap your earlobe to indicate her earring. Marinette obviously takes your meaning, because the realization hits her as obviously as a freight train. 

She gasps. “Oh my gosh, you’re right, I’m about to change back. Can you handle this?” You laugh quietly and nod, patting her on the back, and she nods resolutely. “Thanks, mouse, you’re a real life-saver.”

_“Well,”_ you quip telepathically and watch her nearly jump out of her skin. _“You know what they say: when the cat’s away, the mice will play!”_

For a moment, you watch her process your reaction, and then a moment later, she groans. “Ugh, you’re as bad as Chat! That’s it, _bug out!”_

**Author's Note:**

> yeah, I know chillitude isn't a word, but it's fine, it's cool, it's chill, my dudes


End file.
